


Ninth Life

by cyranonic



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Academy Era, Angst, Animal Death, Cats, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:11:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26490172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyranonic/pseuds/cyranonic
Summary: Dimitri has never been much good with cats. So he finds it particularly unusual that Felix has chosen the meanest, ugliest, most foul-tempered cat in the entire monastery to be his favorite.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 47
Kudos: 181





	Ninth Life

To be entirely honest, Dimitri is a little afraid of the monastery cats. 

Cat behavior unnerves him. The cat might roll over, stretch its belly to the sun, and look invitingly at the students. But the moment a hand tries to pet that enticing expanse of fur, the cat will contract viciously inward, all claws and teeth and kicking legs. 

What’s more, Dimitri is not good at petting cats. He worries he will be too hard and he has recurring morbid images of his hands crushing some tiny delicate cat’s spine. The gauntlets do not help. Since he prefers not to show the rough scarred backs of his hands, he finds that his apprehensive scratches simply irritate the cats. 

So he ignores them for the most part. Every now and then, one will thread through his legs or leap suddenly on his lap when he is resting after training. But they leave often enough if he pays them no mind. 

He doesn’t hate cats. He just doesn’t know what to do with them. 

Felix, on the other hand, likes cats to a surprising degree. Dimitri wasn’t shocked the first time he caught Annette leaving out little scraps of fish skin at the door of the kitchen or heard mournful meowing from Ashe’s room, but with Felix, the affection seems odd. Felix is, by and large, not affectionate. Not tenderhearted. Not gentle. 

The first cat incident occurs a few months into the semester. There is an enormous cat who likes to hang around the training grounds. It is all white, but yellowed at the edges like an old parchment. It’s eyes are blue, a little gummy at the corners, and its ears are tattered from many fights. Dimitri once heard the professor refer to the cat as an Albinean flamepoint, but cat breeds mean nothing to him. 

And this cat, this cat terrifies him. Sometimes, it dashes towards him while he is training, a terrible low growl building in its throat. If he has any sort of food in his bag, it will begin to claw and dig at the fabric until Dimitri gives in and placates the monster. When he is trying to concentrate on his footwork, the cat sprawls beneath him and nips with increasing pressure against his ankles. It reaches up a paw to swat and the end of his lance. 

One morning, when Dimitri is up early on account of another headache, he goes to the training grounds, moving again and again through the basic forms until his body acts before his mind can even respond. He feels groggy and muted, images from his nightmares still rippling beneath the surface of his thoughts. 

As he shifts into a block, he hears a horrific yowl and feels something collide with his leg. Claws dig into his knee, piercing through his trousers as the animal drags itself up. 

Dimitri staggers, shakes, and manages to throw the cat off of him and scramble back towards the pillar. The white cat, the flamepoint, twists back to its feet with monstrous ease. Its tail lashes and its white fur is stained brown with the dust. It wants revenge, Dimitri thinks somewhat hysterically. He watches its pupils expand, its hind legs quiver.

“What are you doing on the ground?” 

Felix’s voice breaks through the tension. The cat arches upwards and scuttles back into the corner like some kind of demonic spider. 

“Cat,” Dimitri manages to pant. “Attacked me.” 

Felix is dressed for training as well, but he follows Dimitri’s pointing finger towards the miserable white creature now crouched behind the weapon’s rack. And to Dimitri’s surprise, Felix’s mouth tugs into a reluctant smile. Dimitri hasn’t seen Felix smile since… 

Well, he knows why Felix does not smile around him anymore. 

“Ah, I like this one,” Felix says, crouching down beside where the beast is sheltering. “He’s playful.” 

“Playful?” Dimitri asks doubtfully. 

Felix casts him a disgusted look. 

“He can’t hurt you,” Felix snaps. “Look at the size of him, boar.” 

Dimitri cautiously stands up. Felix stays crouched beside the weapon’s rack. He extends his hand through the wooden bars and Dimitri holds his breath in case the cat snaps at him. 

A white paw extends out and gently pats at Felix’s fingers. Felix coaxes the paw further out. Felix does not wear gloves to train. Dimitri has often stared at his hands. Strong, graceful hands with a few scars where the years of sword training have nicked and bruised his fingers. 

Slowly, the white cat creeps out from its hiding space, battling curiously at Felix. Then it flops to the ground, rolls onto its back and looks innocently up at him. 

“Felix, don’t--” Dimitri begins to say, but the cat already has him by the hand, teeth digging into his fingers and back feet raking at his forearm. 

And Felix laughs.

That is a sound Dimitri truly hasn’t heard in many, many years. 

“You have some fire in you,” Felix says to the cat as he manages to extract his hand. The cat burbles a ferocious little sound and then gallops off. Dimitri can see a few red lines extending across Felix’s arm. 

“Did he hurt you?” Dimitri asks. Felix looks at him coldly, the fond expression instantly gone from his face. 

“No,” Felix says. “I’m here to train, boar, why are you still watching me?” 

Dimitri leaves him alone. He’s not in the mood to spar. He’s had enough of sudden ambush attacks. 

The second cat incident happens outside of the dining hall. The professor often invites them to eat with her, which Dimitri happily accepts, but for the times when only he and Felix are there. He should have guessed by the menu that Felix would show up, but he’d hoped maybe Ingrid might join them to at least provide some sort of a buffer. 

When it is only him, Felix glares silently through the whole meal. Dimitri already finds it difficult to eat. His lack of taste ought to make it easy, he has often thought, but with Felix’s eyes on him, he feels his throat closing around the food and the texture makes him want to gag. Felix is never shy about mentioning that either. If Dimitri is anything less than perfectly natural, he will notice. 

But one month as the weather turns cool and the game hunting grows scarcer, Felix simply leaves their meal unfinished and without explanation, picking up his plate and walking out of the dining hall. 

“Perhaps you ought to follow him,” the professor suggests when she sees Dimitri’s mortified gaze. They hadn’t been discussing anything objectionable, right? The professor had been speaking about certification exams, not anything that would upset Felix. 

“If you would excuse me, professor,” Dimitri agrees. “I’m sorry. I must have offended him somehow.” 

The professor’s eyes follow him as he hurries out into the courtyard behind the dining hall. 

To his surprise, Felix has not gone stalking back to his room. Instead, he has laid his plate on a low garden wall and is watching it carefully. Dimitri steps forward and then recoils when the enormous white flamepoint leaps suddenly onto the wall and begins sniffing at the food. 

Felix is very still as he watches the cat begin to eat. His eyes flick over to it every now and then, but he doesn’t stare. Dimitri watches the both of them for a moment, the cat nipping up bits of chicken while Felix stands guard over it. 

“What are you doing?” Dimitri finally asks. 

The cat jumps, hisses in his direction, and then scurries away. 

Felix glares at him. 

“Look what you’ve done,” he snarls. 

“I’m sorry,” Dimitri says, although he’s not really sure why. “I just… why are you feeding the cat your leftovers?” 

“To get him to trust me,” Felix retorts, folding his arms over his chest. “Although you’ve spoiled that.” 

“Can’t the cats here catch their own dinners?” Dimitri asks. “Surely the monastery keeps them here to handle the mice?” 

“Cats lash out when they’re frightened. This one hasn’t been treated well,” Felix explains. His voice is tight, like every word is profoundly irritating to speak aloud. “I’m feeding him so he will trust me not to hurt him.” 

“But…” Dimitri is still mystified. “Why?” 

It seems a lot of work and struggle just to pet a single cat. 

“Because I like this cat,” Felix says, his tone murderous. 

Dimitri backs off. He does not understand Felix anymore. Perhaps even less than he understands why someone would want the trust of the miserable flamepoint cat. 

When winter comes, most of the monastery’s cats retreat indoors at night to avoid the cold. Dimitri sees them nestled into the straw of the stables as he waters the horses and he spots several of them slinking into the greenhouse to bask in its relative warmth. Some of the merchants take the cats into their carts, letting them nestle among the trunks and baskets. One calico even curls up close to the forges by night to soak up the residual heat of the fires. 

The night after the ball, Dimitri hears a familiar yowl outside. He glances down from his window and sees through the misty glass a dark shape making its way across the snow. A few moments later, he hears the yowl again on the stairs. 

Dimitri opens his door in time to catch Felix, his shirt torn and his arms bleeding, holding the struggling and thrashing body of the white cat. Dimitri’s face must reflect his alarm. 

“It’s too cold tonight,” Felix says through gritted teeth. “He’ll freeze.” 

Before Dimitri can respond, Felix has shoved his way back into his own room and slammed the door behind him. 

That night, sleepless as ever, Dimitri hears the sound of a cat spitting and growling through the wall. How does Felix tolerate it? Why would he put up with this for the sake of such an aggressive, foul-tempered animal? He understands why Annette’s face lights up when the fat ginger tabby comes to nuzzle its head into her hand. People like cats that show some love in return. 

But apparently Felix likes cats that bite him, run from him, and wail all night when they are trapped in his dormitory.

When spring begins to melt the snow, Dimitri stops seeing the white cat around the training grounds. He is relieved. The cat made him nervous and right now he is barely holding it together. If it had leapt onto his leg again, he might have actually hurt it. 

Felix seems on edge as well. Dimitri keeps hearing his door open and shut at odd hours, as though he can’t remain in his room for any amount of time. 

Annette mentions that he has been visiting the kitchen a lot and leaving with bowls of broth, which is odd. Perhaps he is ill and doesn’t want anyone to know, Mercedes suggests anxiously. Apparently he came to her one evening to ask for bandages and never explained why. 

In class, he is as sharp as ever and on the training ground he is devastating, but Dimitri cannot help but worry. If Felix is hurt or sick, he ought to do something. He is the house leader, after all; it is his responsibility to keep his classmates safe. And Dimitri knows something of hiding pain. He feels sickeningly hopeful that perhaps he and Felix have something in common again. 

One evening Felix skips their house dinner. Dimitri returns to his room afterwards but Felix’s room is empty. Dimitri stands at the threshold, trying to make up his mind. Then finally he goes out to look for him. 

When he does find him, it is because of the sound. Felix is sitting tucked between the stable and the wall, nearly invisible behind the water barrels and the hanging tack. But what draws Dimitri’s attention is a pitiful high mewling sound. It is obvious at once where he has been. 

Felix is sitting with his back against the wall, holding the dirty white cat in his lap. The animal is wretched, its fur matted with dust and excrement. Despite its long fur, Dimitri can tell that it has turned thin as a rail. It’s gummy eyes are lined with red and partially shut. 

They make such an odd contrast. The cat is so pitiful while Felix is, as he always is, striking in his beauty. There is something almost disturbing in the contrast between them. Felix is all sharp features and a graceful sweep of hair while the cat is a weak and sickly smudge of dirtied white in his arms. 

As Dimitri peers around the corner, he sees Felix holding a spoonful of broth to the cat’s mouth. It turns its head away, curling in towards Felix’s body and hiding its face. Felix strokes its filthy fur and gently scratches behind its ears. 

“Felix?” Dimitri calls softly, hoping not to startle him. 

Felix looks up. He doesn’t look angry for once. He looks upset. 

“He stopped eating,” Felix says by way of explanation. 

“Oh,” Dimitri replies, unsure what to say. He approaches slowly and kneels down beside Felix. “Is there anything I can do? 

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” Felix says with frustration. “He feels warm, so I thought it could be an infection, but I’ve cleaned up all his cuts. I think he was in a fight.” 

“Perhaps he needs rest,” Dimitri suggests, although he has no idea what to do about a sick cat. “If you want to take him back to your room, I would help.” 

“He crawled back here to hide,” Felix says. He is staring down at the cat curled pathetically in his lap, stroking the fur on its back. “He wanted somewhere safe.” 

“Have you asked Manuela if she could do anything?” Dimitri offers. 

“Why won’t he eat?” Felix asks. Dimitri is not sure if Felix is really talking to him anymore. 

“He feels sick,” Dimitri replies softly. “Animals don’t eat when they’re in pain.” 

Felix offers another spoonful of broth, pressing it against the white cat’s mouth. All he gets in response is another high moan of pain. 

“Let’s… let’s take him to the dormitory,” Dimitri finally says when a few minutes of silence have gone by. “He’ll be more comfortable there.” 

“He’s dying,” Felix says. 

“He’s a very dangerous cat,” Dimitri says with a smile. “Perhaps he’ll pull through.” 

In the morning, Felix’s door is open. Dimitri is awake very early again. He goes down towards the training grounds. 

As he walks, he spots the shape of a figure hunched over beneath a tree. He sees something white lying motionless beside. There is a partially dug hole beneath the roots of the tree. 

And in the pre-dawn light, Dimitri hears something he hasn’t heard since Glenn was still alive. Felix is crying. Not merely choked up or misty eyed, Felix is shaking with sobs. These are the kinds of tears Dimitri remembers him having as a child, those huge helpless gasping cries. Felix used to cry over anything. He cried once when Dimitri fell off of his pony. It was as though the sight of anyone else in pain was agonizing to him. 

Dimitri hasn’t seen him cry since Glenn died. Except now.

Except now over a mean, ugly, unhealthy stray cat. A cat that hurt him and only allowed him to come close to it when it was so close to death it could barely move. 

When Felix arrives to class that morning, he is more grim than usual, but only Dimitri notes the slight redness around his eyes. Felix offers him no explanation or update and Dimitri doesn’t ask. 

After all, Dimitri has never understood cats. He resigns himself to simply not understanding why Felix had fought so hard for the big white flamepoint. 

Five years later, Dimitri is half-dead of his wounds, trudging through the ruins of the monastery to find somewhere to rest for the night. He curls up in the ruins of the cathedral as usual and he finds Felix waiting for him. 

“You missed dinner,” Felix says harshly. 

Dimitri has no desire to speak anymore. He merely slumps down into a heap beneath a pillar and puts an arm over his face. He hears a slight clink nearby and then the sound of footsteps echoing away. 

When he looks up, he sees a plate of food beside him. 

It is odd that even in this state where all the world is nothing but howling madness, something else finally makes sense. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> @cyranonic on twitter if you wanna be sad about cats with me?


End file.
